Ride of the Valkyrie
by Ithileon
Summary: In which Tamsin's truck dies and she searches for a new one.


**I blame Tamsin and caffeine for this, but it begged to be written.**

Wonderful. Her truck is dead in the middle of godsforsaken nowhere and no amount of swearing will get it running again. Tamsin's head hits the steering wheel with a groan. Why her? What had she done to deserve – oh yeah, what _hadn't_ she done to deserve this and more?

The general area looks familiar enough, so she gets out for a look around. Dog tracks are everywhere, interspersed with wolf tracks, wolf-like tracks, human footprints, and something that looks a lot like a horse's hooves.

Weird. Then again, she's pretty sure all of Aoife's screws are loose if not outright missing.

The valkyrie hikes her ass across the sprawling property of the crazed succubus in hopes of sleeping in an actual bed. The truck could wait until morning.

The doorbell sounds like chimes, and it's a few minutes before the sound of footsteps becomes audible. The porch light comes on, blinding her for a minute, before the door swings open and Tamsin comes face to face with Aoife.

"Tamsin?"

"My truck died. Mind if I stay the night?"

"Nope. If a black dog wakes you up, kick him in the ribs."

"Uh, okay."

* * *

Morning comes, and with it a shaggy black dog, a naked Brit, and Aoife's kid. The kid is certainly polite enough, though how he managed it in a house like this was beyond the valkyrie.

She starts searching for cheap trucks online, butting heads with one Sirius Black the entire time. He thinks a chooser of the slain looks better on a motorcycle, an idea Harry quickly shoots down with the following argument: Tamsin has stuff, stuff does not fit on a motorcycle, and if she needs stuff fast she can't afford to dig it out from magically expanded pockets, bags, or multi-compartment trunks.

Remus Lupin, a.k.a. the werewolf a.k.a. the naked Brit, soundly agrees, and Aoife hits Sirius with a baseball bat. Judging from everyone else's reaction, this was not unusual in this house.

* * *

Remus has a fiancée, a wolf shifter named Ellie. Ellie is a five foot seven blue-eyed blonde, and she brings some of her pack brothers over to visit. Said brothers help Sirius and Remus push her truck into the garage to take a look at it. They diagnose it as, and she can't believe they actually say it this way, "morally, ethically, spiritually, physically, positively, absolutely, undeniably, and reliably dead!"

Then they start singing _Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead_, and Tamsin starts plotting her escape.

* * *

Sleep doesn't come that night because wolves are howling, dogs are barking, _there is a horse out there somewhere_, and Aoife is yelling out windows and throwing stuff. Tamsin buries her head beneath a pillow and prays she doesn't go bat shit crazy.

* * *

Aoife walks in on the valkyrie in a staring contest with Hedwig, Harry's owl and personal mail carrier. This happens every time there's bacon in the house. Hedwig's favorite technique is to dart forward, startling her opponent into blinking and sometimes falling out of the chair. Then she eats their bacon in front of them.

But Hedwig has never met an equally determined valkyrie, as her favorite technique was countered by a face full of valkyrie-doubt. Aoife didn't know owls could _make_ a face like that.

Tamsin uses a steak knife to fend off the raptor, gleefully eating her prize. Hedwig spends the rest of the day sulking.

* * *

She finds a blue truck the next day, personally cracks Sirius over the head to keep him from enchanting it to hell and back, only to discover she can't afford it. Aoife offers to make up the difference. Ellie threatens murder. She gets the thing for free.

It takes three days to get her laundry back and another four to find her weapons. Aoife insists on ironing everything and Harry is polishing her weapons. By hand. They look brand new when he returns them. Her clothes are a different story, and it takes another few hours to convince Aoife she does not _need_ to go shopping.

* * *

Aoife kicks the shifters out the next morning, promising to call their Alpha or skin them alive, whichever opportunity presents itself first. Tamsin has never seen grown men run that fast. Ellie remains behind, taking off with Remus into the back yard to do, something rather inappropriate, if the look they exchange is anything to go by. Aoife drags Sirius up the stairs, Hedwig is still sulking, and Harry asks if Tamsin wants to play a board game.

She turns him down politely, sensing this may be the only opportunity to escape without further delays. The valkyrie packs her stuff in her new truck and barely stops herself from literally burning rubber. If her tires blow out she'll be stuck here longer.

It's only later she discovers the psychos she's stayed with did not let her leave unprepared. She has dragonhide armor. Effing dragonhide! From a Peruvian Vipertooth! Good quality and highly expensive stuff too; it would take several jobs to make enough just for dragonhide gloves. There's a bearskin blanket, likely included as a joke of some kind. It's thick and warm though, helpful for cold nights. It that a warming charm on it? They put a warming charm on the blanket? _Damn_ they were spoiling her!

There's even a first aid kit, plus a note saying the contents had been tested on Aoife and worked, though they weren't sure if these things would work on other fae. Acromantula silk and unicorn tail hair bandages (where they got them she wasn't sure), healing potions and pastes (who'd they rob to get these?) and a box of Honeydukes chocolate (really?).

How nice of them. She wonders how long the supplies will last in her line of work. Probably not long, unless she uses them sparingly.

Then a sound floats up from the floorboards of the passenger seat. Lifting the blanket from the box, Tamsin says, "Oh _hell_ no!"

* * *

"Back already?"

Tamsin holds up the ball of fluff, "Is this yours?"

"Oslo!" Aoife coos, cuddling the now purring kitten. "Thank you Tamsin."

"Anytime."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to castrate my husband."

"Yeah. Good luck with that."

**I think I've found my niche.**


End file.
